new member and new fic
Title: Deliverance
Author/Artist: pandoras_chaos aka afterimage84
Pairing: H/D, with a teensy little bit of Draco/ Bill Weasley
Rating: Hard R, perhaps NC-17
Warning: DARK, slightly squicktastic, violence, bloodplay etc.
Summary: Harry finds the last horcrux...
Note: thanks to lucilla_darkate for beta-ing
Harry Potter was in hell.
He thought he knew true pain, but that was before he'd been named the Leader of the Order of the Phoenix. Nobody knew what to do what Dumbledore died, therefore Harry was automatically deemed the "leader of the pack" much to his discomfort. He thought he'd done a fairly decent job-until they’d captured Draco Malfoy that is.
Malfoy looked thinner than usual, his long blonde hair hanging in dirty streams around his face. He looked as though he hadn't seen a shower in months-probably true considering he'd been on the run since June. His usually sharp cheekbones were even more pronounced, framing his sunken eyes that flashed dangerously towards anyone who bothered to look at him.
Bill Weasley had caught his scent in the Forbidden Forest right outside of Hogwarts when he'd been searching for Snape. They'd found the old potions master dead, his head split open and his carcass torn apart from whatever animals had fought over his body. It hadn't been a pretty sight, but Harry found it somewhat satisfying.
That thought alone scared him.
Bill's half-werewolf nose had wrinkled at the acrid smell of liquefied flesh, but he'd gathered Snape's body parts anyway and Apparated them back to Grimmauld Place. Harry waited for Bill to return before they both wandered through the Forest searching for the final horcrux-a crystal vial of soul, as it were, that was supposedly hanging around Severus Snape's neck.
Of course, the vial was gone, so they were stuck searching the ground for the tiny crystal object instead. Quite suddenly, Bill's head had shot up and he sniffed the air with deliberation.
"What is it?" Harry whispered, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.
Bill shook his head and took off into the Forest, a disgruntled Harry following after him. "Go home, Harry!" Bill commanded as the trees became thicker. Harry wanted to protest, but Bill was already too far out of sight. Begrudgingly, he Apparated back to number 12 to wait for Bill’s return.
He was completely unprepared for Malfoy's cold grey eyes to stare hatefully up at him through that ridiculously long hair. Bill had taken matters into his own hands apparently as shown by the teeth and claw marks on that perfect alabaster skin. It made Harry shudder.
The thing that caught Harry’s breath however, was not the bloody gashes decorating his childhood rival's back and shoulders, but the deep scars across his chest, shredding through the skin in wide purple slashes. Harry felt the bile rising into his throat and swallowed against it. It would not do for him to empty the contents of his stomach all over their new captive.
"Bring him to the holding cell," Harry heard himself say, though his voice sounded distant and harsh even to his own ears.
Malfoy's eyes narrowed and a sick sneer crossed his lips for an instant before he was dragged out of the room. Harry's chest felt tight and he tried to remember how to breathe.
It wasn't until two sleepless nights later that he finally allowed himself to go down into the dungeons of number 12 and confront his personal demons. Malfoy was huddled in the far corner of the cell, absently stroking the Mark on his left arm.
He started when Harry cleared his throat and flinched before he raised his defiant gaze. His shoulders seemed to slump in what looked suspiciously like relief before he said, "Oh, it's you."
Harry blinked, confusion setting in. "Of course it's me. Who else would it be?"
Malfoy let out a small huff of laughter that held absolutely no humor in it. "It seems your werewolf has a fancy for pretty little blonde boys."
Harry felt his stomach churn, but with an emotion much different than he would have expected. White hot jealousy was unfurling in the pit of his stomach along with something that felt nearly like lust. Without much warning, he drew his wand and opened the door, stalking into the cell to loom ominously over Malfoy's slouched body.
"What the bloody hell are you doing, Potter?" Malfoy demanded, his eyebrow arching aristocratically despite the fear hiding behind his eyes.
"Bill will never touch you again," Harry ground out between clenched teeth. He reached forward and pulled Draco to his feet, noting for the first time that the boy was completely naked. His skin felt simultaneously cold and soft like the molded leather of an expensive couch.
Draco struggled slightly, but Harry held him in a vice-like grip, crashing his lips down upon the other boy's. His senses reeled with the overwhelming sensation. He'd never had the desire to do anything but punch Malfoy and here he was snogging his brains out in the dungeon of his house.
Lost of all conscious thought, Harry pried Draco's lips open with his tongue and laid full claim to his mouth. Draco trembled lightly, but fiercely kissed him back until he'd sucked Harry's tongue into his mouth. Without warning, Draco bit down hard, causing Harry to yelp and push him roughly back.
He licked his lips as the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. Draco was glaring openly at him, a look of defiant triumph on his face.
"I always knew you were a queer," Draco snickered.
Harry growled and punched the grin right off Malfoy's face. He felt the satisfying crunch of bone beneath his fist and watched with sick pleasure as Draco’s head snapped backwards and the crimson blood began flowing from his broken nose.
To his credit, Draco didn't cry out. Instead, he launched himself at Harry, crashing their lips together again and smearing his blood all over both of their faces. Harry could taste the familiar tang of copper in his mouth and realized with a sense of twisted desire that Draco's blood was sweet.
He pulled his head back to lick carefully all over Draco's face, murmuring a healing spell to reform his nose. He licked the slick red substance from Malfoy's eyelashes, reveling in the gasp and short exhale against his throat where Draco’s lips were pressed lightly against his pulse point.
"Never again," Harry murmured.
: :
Harry didn't allow himself to think about how it had come to this-waking up with Draco Malfoy curled against him in his bed every morning. There was always a cryptically triumphant look in Malfoy’s eyes, as if he knew something Harry didn't.
Harry didn't let himself remember the heavy chain holding Malfoy's wrists in place when they fell asleep sated every night, covered in come and sheets twisting around their ankles. He even ignored the small cries he heard in the middle of the night when Draco thought he was too deeply asleep to notice the nightmares.
Bill had gone quiet after Draco had been moved up to Harry's bedroom. He rarely hung around the house anymore, terrified of what would happen to him if Harry ever caught him alone. There was a possessiveness in Harry's eyes now that he had a new toy to play with.
Draco let Harry fuck him every night, dutifully kneeling before him with his ass in the air. Harry subconsciously knew it was rape, but it felt too good to stop and somewhere deep down, he'd convinced himself Draco wanted it. He'd had it coming all along, after all and he'd chosen the wrong side.
It didn't stop him from tucking Malfoy in every night and kissing him softly on the temple, whispering broken apologies and empty promises. Little by little Draco stopped resisting at all, his spirit broken and a resigned calm setting over his limbs.
Thirteen days later, Draco went missing.
The next time Harry saw him was on the battlefield standing directly next to Voldemort. Harry's insides curled with renewed hate as he watched his mortal enemy stroke a long white finger down his lover's cheek. Malfoy's eyes were cold and hard as his jaw clenched, but he allowed the touch nonetheless.
Harry felt the power radiating through his body before he flung the broken shards of the recovered crystal vial at Voldemort's feet. The Dark Lord looked mildly surprised, but his lips twisted into a dark grin.
"How does it feel to know you're about to die, Tom?" Harry purred coldly, raising his wand.
Voldemort merely grinned at him sadistically and opened his arms wide to embrace his death. Harry cast it swiftly, willing every ounce of hate he had into the killing curse. It shot out of his wand in a blast of green light, enveloping Voldemort for a moment before dissolving into vapors of green smoke.
Harry stood dumbstruck, his mouth agape and his breath coming in short pants. "Wha--?"
Voldemort's laughter rang out through the night in a high-pitched fury.
"It's me, Potter. I'm the last horcrux." A cold voice drawled against his ear, Malfoy's breath making the curls at the back of his neck dance.
Harry shuddered and made to turn, but Draco's arms snaked hotly around his waist and held him firm. "It was the price for deliverance," Draco whispered, licking a wet stripe up the back of Harry's neck and causing him to shiver.
Suddenly, the warmth embracing him fell away and Harry felt cold and bereft. He couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom, but worse was the feeling that he somehow deserved it.
"How does it feel to know you're about to die, Harry?" Voldemort asked, a predatory smile snaking its way across his lips.
Harry ignored him and instead turned to the beautiful boy standing behind him. "I'm sorry," he whispered before bracing himself for the curse.
A sick smile spread across Draco's face before he raised his wand and whispered Avada Kedavra.
x-posted like a whore
Author/Artist: pandoras_chaos aka afterimage84
Pairing: H/D, with a teensy little bit of Draco/ Bill Weasley
Rating: Hard R, perhaps NC-17
Warning: DARK, slightly squicktastic, violence, bloodplay etc.
Summary: Harry finds the last horcrux...
Note: thanks to lucilla_darkate for beta-ing
Harry Potter was in hell.
He thought he knew true pain, but that was before he'd been named the Leader of the Order of the Phoenix. Nobody knew what to do what Dumbledore died, therefore Harry was automatically deemed the "leader of the pack" much to his discomfort. He thought he'd done a fairly decent job-until they’d captured Draco Malfoy that is.
Malfoy looked thinner than usual, his long blonde hair hanging in dirty streams around his face. He looked as though he hadn't seen a shower in months-probably true considering he'd been on the run since June. His usually sharp cheekbones were even more pronounced, framing his sunken eyes that flashed dangerously towards anyone who bothered to look at him.
Bill Weasley had caught his scent in the Forbidden Forest right outside of Hogwarts when he'd been searching for Snape. They'd found the old potions master dead, his head split open and his carcass torn apart from whatever animals had fought over his body. It hadn't been a pretty sight, but Harry found it somewhat satisfying.
That thought alone scared him.
Bill's half-werewolf nose had wrinkled at the acrid smell of liquefied flesh, but he'd gathered Snape's body parts anyway and Apparated them back to Grimmauld Place. Harry waited for Bill to return before they both wandered through the Forest searching for the final horcrux-a crystal vial of soul, as it were, that was supposedly hanging around Severus Snape's neck.
Of course, the vial was gone, so they were stuck searching the ground for the tiny crystal object instead. Quite suddenly, Bill's head had shot up and he sniffed the air with deliberation.
"What is it?" Harry whispered, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.
Bill shook his head and took off into the Forest, a disgruntled Harry following after him. "Go home, Harry!" Bill commanded as the trees became thicker. Harry wanted to protest, but Bill was already too far out of sight. Begrudgingly, he Apparated back to number 12 to wait for Bill’s return.
He was completely unprepared for Malfoy's cold grey eyes to stare hatefully up at him through that ridiculously long hair. Bill had taken matters into his own hands apparently as shown by the teeth and claw marks on that perfect alabaster skin. It made Harry shudder.
The thing that caught Harry’s breath however, was not the bloody gashes decorating his childhood rival's back and shoulders, but the deep scars across his chest, shredding through the skin in wide purple slashes. Harry felt the bile rising into his throat and swallowed against it. It would not do for him to empty the contents of his stomach all over their new captive.
"Bring him to the holding cell," Harry heard himself say, though his voice sounded distant and harsh even to his own ears.
Malfoy's eyes narrowed and a sick sneer crossed his lips for an instant before he was dragged out of the room. Harry's chest felt tight and he tried to remember how to breathe.
It wasn't until two sleepless nights later that he finally allowed himself to go down into the dungeons of number 12 and confront his personal demons. Malfoy was huddled in the far corner of the cell, absently stroking the Mark on his left arm.
He started when Harry cleared his throat and flinched before he raised his defiant gaze. His shoulders seemed to slump in what looked suspiciously like relief before he said, "Oh, it's you."
Harry blinked, confusion setting in. "Of course it's me. Who else would it be?"
Malfoy let out a small huff of laughter that held absolutely no humor in it. "It seems your werewolf has a fancy for pretty little blonde boys."
Harry felt his stomach churn, but with an emotion much different than he would have expected. White hot jealousy was unfurling in the pit of his stomach along with something that felt nearly like lust. Without much warning, he drew his wand and opened the door, stalking into the cell to loom ominously over Malfoy's slouched body.
"What the bloody hell are you doing, Potter?" Malfoy demanded, his eyebrow arching aristocratically despite the fear hiding behind his eyes.
"Bill will never touch you again," Harry ground out between clenched teeth. He reached forward and pulled Draco to his feet, noting for the first time that the boy was completely naked. His skin felt simultaneously cold and soft like the molded leather of an expensive couch.
Draco struggled slightly, but Harry held him in a vice-like grip, crashing his lips down upon the other boy's. His senses reeled with the overwhelming sensation. He'd never had the desire to do anything but punch Malfoy and here he was snogging his brains out in the dungeon of his house.
Lost of all conscious thought, Harry pried Draco's lips open with his tongue and laid full claim to his mouth. Draco trembled lightly, but fiercely kissed him back until he'd sucked Harry's tongue into his mouth. Without warning, Draco bit down hard, causing Harry to yelp and push him roughly back.
He licked his lips as the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. Draco was glaring openly at him, a look of defiant triumph on his face.
"I always knew you were a queer," Draco snickered.
Harry growled and punched the grin right off Malfoy's face. He felt the satisfying crunch of bone beneath his fist and watched with sick pleasure as Draco’s head snapped backwards and the crimson blood began flowing from his broken nose.
To his credit, Draco didn't cry out. Instead, he launched himself at Harry, crashing their lips together again and smearing his blood all over both of their faces. Harry could taste the familiar tang of copper in his mouth and realized with a sense of twisted desire that Draco's blood was sweet.
He pulled his head back to lick carefully all over Draco's face, murmuring a healing spell to reform his nose. He licked the slick red substance from Malfoy's eyelashes, reveling in the gasp and short exhale against his throat where Draco’s lips were pressed lightly against his pulse point.
"Never again," Harry murmured.
: :
Harry didn't allow himself to think about how it had come to this-waking up with Draco Malfoy curled against him in his bed every morning. There was always a cryptically triumphant look in Malfoy’s eyes, as if he knew something Harry didn't.
Harry didn't let himself remember the heavy chain holding Malfoy's wrists in place when they fell asleep sated every night, covered in come and sheets twisting around their ankles. He even ignored the small cries he heard in the middle of the night when Draco thought he was too deeply asleep to notice the nightmares.
Bill had gone quiet after Draco had been moved up to Harry's bedroom. He rarely hung around the house anymore, terrified of what would happen to him if Harry ever caught him alone. There was a possessiveness in Harry's eyes now that he had a new toy to play with.
Draco let Harry fuck him every night, dutifully kneeling before him with his ass in the air. Harry subconsciously knew it was rape, but it felt too good to stop and somewhere deep down, he'd convinced himself Draco wanted it. He'd had it coming all along, after all and he'd chosen the wrong side.
It didn't stop him from tucking Malfoy in every night and kissing him softly on the temple, whispering broken apologies and empty promises. Little by little Draco stopped resisting at all, his spirit broken and a resigned calm setting over his limbs.
Thirteen days later, Draco went missing.
The next time Harry saw him was on the battlefield standing directly next to Voldemort. Harry's insides curled with renewed hate as he watched his mortal enemy stroke a long white finger down his lover's cheek. Malfoy's eyes were cold and hard as his jaw clenched, but he allowed the touch nonetheless.
Harry felt the power radiating through his body before he flung the broken shards of the recovered crystal vial at Voldemort's feet. The Dark Lord looked mildly surprised, but his lips twisted into a dark grin.
"How does it feel to know you're about to die, Tom?" Harry purred coldly, raising his wand.
Voldemort merely grinned at him sadistically and opened his arms wide to embrace his death. Harry cast it swiftly, willing every ounce of hate he had into the killing curse. It shot out of his wand in a blast of green light, enveloping Voldemort for a moment before dissolving into vapors of green smoke.
Harry stood dumbstruck, his mouth agape and his breath coming in short pants. "Wha--?"
Voldemort's laughter rang out through the night in a high-pitched fury.
"It's me, Potter. I'm the last horcrux." A cold voice drawled against his ear, Malfoy's breath making the curls at the back of his neck dance.
Harry shuddered and made to turn, but Draco's arms snaked hotly around his waist and held him firm. "It was the price for deliverance," Draco whispered, licking a wet stripe up the back of Harry's neck and causing him to shiver.
Suddenly, the warmth embracing him fell away and Harry felt cold and bereft. He couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom, but worse was the feeling that he somehow deserved it.
"How does it feel to know you're about to die, Harry?" Voldemort asked, a predatory smile snaking its way across his lips.
Harry ignored him and instead turned to the beautiful boy standing behind him. "I'm sorry," he whispered before bracing himself for the curse.
A sick smile spread across Draco's face before he raised his wand and whispered Avada Kedavra.
x-posted like a whore